Resident Evil: Hell on Earth
by kokurousagi
Summary: Multichapter RE. Set during RE2 & RE3, we follow the a young Raccoon City teen in her journey to escape Raccoon City. The hidden arc in RE2 & RE3.
1. Prologue

**Notes:** This fan fiction is based on S.D. Perry's novelization of the "Resident Evil" series, and as such will follow her timeline. This story takes place during the novelization of RE2, known as the book "Resident Evil: City of the Dead," and the novelization of RE3, written as "Resident Evil: Nemesis".

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and events are the property of Capcom.

* * *

**Resident Evil: Hell on Earth**

_This isn't happening._

"Unnnnh!" There was another one, lumbering out from one of the smaller alleys, a portly-looking man with a rounded belly. His skull gleamed in the sickly white light of the streetlights, the skin falling off in ripped pieces. A chunk of skin fell over the man's left eye, obscuring his vision. He was bloody, so bloody, and pale, and sick-looking…Beth forced down the bile threatening to rise in her throat and sped past him, her hiking boots crunching down on asphalt and broken glass—

—_there!_

There it was, in full view—the Raccoon Police Department, surely she'd find somebody there, somebody sane, someone who knew—

"—Brad!"

And Beth Takarai froze, automatically throwing herself against the wall and peering around to see through the bars of the gates—

—_ohmygodohmygod_—

There was a brown-haired man dressed in a yellow vest with something sticking out the back of his head, something slimy and fleshy-looking, and it _moved_, it fucking moved, and then it vanished, the man was flying to one side, landing brokenly on the ground, and Beth realized that he was _dead_, he was dead and bleeding out on the ground—

"Starrrsss…"

Beth's head snapped up, and she saw something she hadn't noticed before.

_Oh my fucking God, no way, this isn't happening!_

There was a…a _something_ dressed in black, something that was too tall to be human, with a bald, scabby-looking head and impossibly broad shoulders, and it was talking, _no way in hell is it talking_—

"Starrssss…"

Beth moved. She couldn't stay there, no way, she had to get away, get out of this crazy town…

She forced herself to run, passing the gates and the freak in black, and she passed by safely—

—just in time to find herself in the too-bright beams of a vehicle—

"H, hey!" Beth shouted, stopping and raising her arms above her head, _oh thank God I'm safe everything's gonna be okay_—

—and the lights swerved away, and Beth blinked, watching as a large truck took a turn before it managed to get to her.

_What…! No!_

"W-wait!" she gasped out, and she couldn't fight it anymore, the intense feeling of hopelessness that inflated inside her chest like a balloon. She felt the tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and all she wanted to do was hunker down in the middle of the street and cry, cry her heart out for everything that had happened in the past three days and for everything she had lost.

_This isn't happening…_

It was a nightmare. It just had to be.

Raccoon City had been normal just…what? Three days ago? Everything was fine.

_And now…Dad…_

Everything had gone to shit just three days ago. Raccoon had been having a series of weird, unexplained murders, Beth knew at least that much. They were being called "the cannibal murders," but beyond that, the citizens of Raccoon were told nothing else. It was fine, the mayor had announced in the morning news. The police would get right on it.

Except they haven't.

The city lockdown happened just two days ago. Beth and her father didn't know why. First, things were normal and then, next thing they knew, they couldn't leave the city, couldn't write to anyone, couldn't phone anyone…

…and then the cannibals appeared.

Beth wasn't sure when exactly the whole town had been reduced to sick cannibals. But just two days ago her father had told her not to go outside anymore, so she didn't. She stayed in the house all day, and yesterday, her father had left.

"To go to city hall and talk to the mayor," he'd told her, before planting a kiss in her hair and walking out the door.

He hadn't come back.

And just this morning, when Beth had woken up, she knew something was wrong.

The Takarai home had been outfitted with some astounding security devices. Living in Beverly Hills had made Neji somewhat paranoid about burglars, and so their home in Raccoon City had been outfitted by a tough security system that made it hard for anyone to get in. Beth had been awoken at some ungodly hour in the morning because someone was trying to get in the house.

She had heard the alarm go off, and had gone downstairs to check things out. She looked through the window facing the front porch—

—and saw her father beating at the front door. Except something was wrong.

Neji Takarai turned, as if sensing his daughter's eyes, and faced Beth.

Beth had screamed.

Her father wasn't her father anymore, because her father had both eyes, and his lower jaw couldn't be hanging at such a weird angle, and he wasn't supposed to be covered in blood like that. And Beth had screamed, and screamed, and screamed, even as the dead-looking man that looked like her father shuffled over to the glass, and started pounding.

Beth remembered running up the stairs, into her father's bedroom, and grabbing the handgun that Neji always kept under his bed. It was a 9mm semiautomatic handgun, a Beretta—Beth knew this because it was her father's favorite gun, and Neji was one of those gun nuts who had gun magazines and all sorts of things…

…and there was the sound of breaking glass, and Beth knew that her house had been invaded.

She remembered standing at the top of the stairs in her modest, two-story house with the white fences, and shouting at the weird cannibal-monster to stop, to turn around and leave, she had a gun and she knew how to shoot, her father taught her, but the _thing_ didn't go away, it started to try and clamber up the stairs after her and Beth had fired twice, screaming—

—and the second shot blew through the forehead and out the back, spraying brain and blood all over the Takarai's plush cream carpet.

Everything after that was a blur. Beth remembered trying to call the police, but the phone lines had been cut, and so had the electricity, and Beth knew something was wrong, very wrong, because horror films always started out with the phone lines being cut. So she had dressed—a pair of scuffed, steel-toed black hiking boots; her favorite pair of Levi's; and a plain white baseball shirt with black, three-quarter sleeves. Everything was fitted, because Beth knew that stupid girls in horror films always got their clothes caught in doors or whatever. And she had taken the gun, her father's gun. She had raided his room for extra ammunition, too, storing it in black messenger back that she wore across her left shoulder and rested on her right hip. She knew that she had to leave. That was all she had planned for.

She had made it to the police station, sure that someone would be there to help, but now, after she had seen the kind of _monsters_ hanging around the place, Beth had no idea what to do, and it seemed that there was nothing she _could_ do, except wait in the middle of the street and wait for death.

Because that's what was coming for her. Death.

She couldn't survive in a helltown like this. Hell, she was only eighteen.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters, places, and events are the property of Capcom.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Ash Tennyson pretty much knew that today was going to be a shitty day. He just wasn't sure how much.

He was one of the newer policemen in Raccoon City, having graduated from a police academy in Florida just about two years ago. He was new, but good—he was naturally gifted at diplomacy, which had helped at one of his very first assignments on the job; it had been a kidnapping case, one of those obsessive ex-boyfriends who wanted to prove to his girlfriend he still loved her by kidnapping her and holing up at the roof of City Hall. The guy had been crazy, for sure, but it ended up alright—Ash had managed to talk the guy into letting the girl choose between him and her new boyfriend, and the minute she left his grip Ash had shot the ground an inch from the guy's foot, putting the fear of God into him and making him surrender to the police quite easily.

"Score," Ash muttered, opening a random, unlocked locker in the RPD's basement weapons locker, which revealed bountiful goods—a few boxes of ammo for his 9mm, an H & K VP70 handgun, some empty magazines—and the beautiful, slim, compact figure of a Remington shotgun, complete with a shoulder strap. Ash peered inside and saw boxes at the very bottom of the locker, just behind the butt of the shotgun.

"Thank you," Ash whispered, quickly reloading his handgun. It had taken all of his bullets to ensure that all the zombie policemen in the weapons locker were dead, and he knew that if he hadn't just found ammo in here, he'd soon be dead with them.

_This has just been a really fucked up week…_

Ash sighed, holstering his gun. He'd been part of the last police resistance, locking himself in the squad room with Marvin Branagh and a few others since three days ago, but it didn't help—pretty soon Yang and Davis had become zombies, and Ash and Marvin had had to shoot them, but not before Yang managed to take a few bites of Branagh's shoulder. Ash had helped the other man patch up the wound, and then Marvin had sent him away, told him to find other survivors. Ash didn't want to leave him; Marvin had been basically a mentor to Ash since Ash had been recruited into RPD, but Marvin would have none of it—Ash found himself facing down the barrel of Marvin's gun as Marvin shouted for him to leave.

"Dammit." Ash shook his head, coming out of his reverie. Dwelling on the past wasn't going to help him; he was pretty sure that the sickness had turned Marvin into one of _them_, and he'd rather remember one of his best friends as the man he used to be, and not the freak he would surely turn into.

Ash stared into the locker, searching for something, _anything_, a pack or bag, to put the extra ammo in. There was nothing. Ash swore, "You've gotta be kidding me…" _All this ammunition and nothing to put it in_—

—and in frustration, Ash slammed his free fist into the next locker, the force making the door fly open, and Ash stared into it, shocked; there was a small, empty, canvas duffel bag sitting there.

_Thank you!_

Ash hurriedly grabbed the duffel and emptied it; there was a pair of shorts in there but nothing else, and shoved the extra magazines and the boxes of shotgun and handgun ammo inside. He slipped the strap of the bag over his left shoulder, letting the bag rest at his right side, the strap crossing diagonally over his chest. He grabbed the Remington, checking it for ammo; when he was sure that the gun was loaded, Ash set out again—there were no survivors left in the precinct that he knew about, and the next place to search was out.

He wished he didn't have to go, but he had promised Marvin. Ash grit his teeth and left the weapons locker.

---

Beth took careful aim, and fired.

The bullet drove straight through the zombie's left eye, obliterating the left side of the face, and Beth was aiming for the next zombie before it even touched the ground. This one was a woman, maybe in her late forties, with most of her limbs intact except for the fact that she was limping—Beth saw that one of her ankles was at an odd angle and there was the slick white of bone showing through the skin—

—_and why are you even thinking about that!_

Beth fired, _BAM_, and the woman's forehead exploded into brain and blood, and Beth swung around, her gun at the ready.

Nothing there.

She lowered the gun, the adrenaline pumping through her veins making her twitchy, wary. She was shaking, she knew, but that didn't matter. What mattered was getting out of this freak city and _leaving_.

It had taken her a whole half hour to stop freaking out and crying in the middle of the street, and another fifteen minutes for her to get herself together. She had cried out all her frustration, leaving behind logic and fear…but Beth knew she couldn't get rid of the fear, not as long as she was standing in a city full of zombies and God knows what else.

It was the logic that really mattered. The reasoning that she was probably the only one left alive in the entire city, and that it wasn't going to do any good if she just decided to lie down and wait to be killed. Above her fear of the monsters, Beth had a fear of a gruesome death, and that was probably the only thing that made her take out her gun and start shooting when the monsters had come out to meet her.

_That's all there is to it. Shoot the baddies, kick some ass, and get the hell out._

That was definitely easier said than done. Beth let out a heavy sigh, _maybe I _should_ go into the RPD precinct, they probably have some bigger guns there I could use_—

—and then the gates swung open, and Beth was firing.

_BAM BAM BAM!_—

"—shit, wait, _dammit, WAIT!_"

Beth stopped, but didn't lower the gun. _"Who are you!"_ she demanded, her fear making her voice louder than normal.

"Hey, if you just calm down, I—"

"Who are you!"

"Hey, calm down." The voice was smooth, low, and definitely male. "My name's Tennyson, Ash Tennyson, I'm a cop."

Beth almost cried tears of relief if it wasn't for the fact that she had cried out all her tears just about an hour ago. She lowered her gun, stowing it in the waistband of her Levi's, and stepped towards him, feeling safer than she had in the past few hours.

Ash Tennyson was tall, and pretty young-looking, maybe around twenty-one or so. Dressed in pair of dark jeans and a black shirt with a vest over it, he was probably around six feet tall, Beth guessed, built like a basketball player, tall and lean. His hair was dark, cut short so that his bangs grazed his bright green eyes, and he had a square, strong jaw.

_Like a green-eyed Johnny Depp_, Beth thought absently.

"You alright?" Ash asked, walking up to her. "I heard shots. I'm guessing it was you?"

Beth nodded, flushing slightly. "I didn't mean to shoot you…" she said meekly.

Ash smiled, and Beth noticed he had dimples. "No problem," he told her, "you missed, anyway."

And then Beth found her manners, and she gasped, stepping back and sticking out a small, slim hand. "I—I'm Beth," she said, stumbling slightly over the words. "Beth Takarai."

Ash studied her for moment, then shook her hand, asking, "Civilian?"

Beth flushed again, nodding. "Y-yes."

Ash nodded, looking thoughtful, and Beth suddenly noticed that he was armed up the ass. He had a handgun in a holster strapped to one leg, and she could see that there was a shotgun strapped to his back. And Beth was willing to bet money that the duffel bag at his side was holding either more guns or more ammo.

"Hey, look," Ash said suddenly, and Beth looked up at him, "I think we're the only people alive in this place, and now that we've found each other, I'm starting to think it's a pretty good idea that we stick together. I'm armed, you're armed, and together we stand a pretty good chance of mowing through these…these monsters, and getting out of the city." His expression was uncertain as he looked at her. "What…what do you think? Do you want to do that?"

Beth blinked, letting the idea sink into her mind—she would be with a cop, someone trained to handle things like this, and he was asking if she wanted it? _Hell yes!_ she thought fiercely, and smiled up at him, a grateful, happy smile.

"Yeah, definitely. I'd _definitely_ want to do that."


End file.
